


Band-Aids Don't Fix Bullet Holes

by changrens



Series: Blood On Your Hands [2]
Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 乐华七子NEXT | NEX7, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: M/M, doctor!yanchen, gangmember!zeren, oaca is a gang too, yuehua is a gang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 12:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15461379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changrens/pseuds/changrens
Summary: “You say sorry just for show; if you live like that, you live with ghosts.”Italics: FlashbackWord Count: 4.7KWarnings: blood, swearing, really inaccurate medicine, tropes.





	Band-Aids Don't Fix Bullet Holes

“I’m literally going to beat the shit out of you if you ever try anything like that again.” 

“That’s to be expected.”

Zhengting let go of his injured friend to open the door to the car, trying his best to hurry and get them both out of the cold.

“Y’know, I’m getting treated pretty well. Maybe I should get injured more often.” Zeren chuckled, holding onto his side as if it would help the pain go away as he got into the car.

Zhengting froze and stared at Zeren. 

“I don’t believe that Yanchen guy. You’re definitely more concussed if you’re saying shit like that.” the leader grunted, closing the passenger door and walking around to the driver’s side.

“Calm down, Ge. It’s just a cut. I’m gonna live whether you want me to or not.” the young member joked. 

“Just a cut? You can’t walk on your own, dumbass.” Zhengting snapped, slamming his door closed and pushing the key into the ignition.

The car let out a low rumble as it started up, showcasing how old the truck really was to passerbys. The leader moved the gear shift and the vehicle started to move, picking up enough speed to shatter the quiet aura of the neighborhood Yanchen lived in.

Zeren was exhausted. His limbs felt as if they had sandbags tied to them and that they would never move again. He could just barely feel his heart beating slowly inside his chest, thouroughly worn out after the nights’ endeavors. The dull stinging in his side where Yanchen closed his wound moments ago was very present. The pain distracted him from the world around him and seemed to only make him even more tired. His head spun and honestly, all Zeren wanted to do was pop some extra-strength tylenol and take a long nap. Unfortunately, Zhengting wasn’t going to let that happen for a while yet— at least not until Zeren had been thoroughly interrogated by the other members.

Zhengting kept his eyes flitting back and forth between his member and the road, trying to pay equal amounts of attention to both despite the danger.

Zeren had almost drifted off when he heard his leader’s familiar voice nagging at him, dragging his worn body away from unconsciousness.

“You better not be falling asleep.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. ‘M awake.” Zeren slurred, eyelids heavy.

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England.” Zhengting retorted. “Seriously, stay awake.”

 _‘Easier said than done.’_ Zeren thought.

Zeren’s eyes moved around the landscape that seemed to pass too quickly for Zhengting to be driving the speed limit. The bright lights made his head throb. The scenery around them became increasingly family to Zeren; he recognized the corner store and the laundromat that sat on opposite sides of the street as the car stopped at a light.

Zeren chuckled to himself, looking inside the brightly lit laundromat. The irony both made his insides twinge with guilt and amusement.

He used to come here often, but that was a long time ago.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“Thought you’d gotten lost.” Mubo chuckled, pushing himself off the bench to greet his friend._

_“You seem to be forgetting who you’re talking to.” Zeren quipped, gripping Mubo‘s hand and pulling him into a hug._

_“It’s good to see you. Did you bring it?” the oldest asked, releasing Zeren from his grip._

_Zeren reached into his hoodie pocket and let his fingers close over the wad of cash before discreetly pulling it out and handing it to Mubo._

_Mubo grabbed it quickly and stuffed it into his pants pocket, trying to hide the cash from any security cameras._

_“You’d better buy me a drink for this one; he was a pain in the ass to sell to.” Zeren snorted._

_Mubo held his hands up in surrender as if to say “Alright” before looping one of his arms around Zeren’s shoulders._

_Zeren smirked in victory before starting to walk forward in sync with Mubo, leaving the blindingly bright lights of the laundromat behind them._

_There was a bar a street or two away, a sort of a hole in the wall kind of place. It wasn’t super busy usually, hence the reason Zeren came so often. He could drink in peace._

_The door swung open, the creaking of the hinges announcing Mubo and Zeren’s arrival to the employees and patrons. The dim lights took some adjusting to, a stark contrast from the twilight that peeked through the cracks of the door._

_The pair sat down on stools with worn cracked leather, Mubo waving his arm to get the attention of the bartender._

_Zeren’s eyes wandered around the familiar setting, only being pulled back to the present by his friend’s voice._

_“Here,” Mubo said, sliding a glass of tinted liquid across the counter towards Zeren. “Now we’re even. What made it such a pain in the ass to sell to this guy anyways?”_

_Zeren picked up the cup, holding it in his right hand with his elbow propped on the bar, watching the liquid slosh around in the glass. He was tired, not really in the mood to explain everything that happened to his friend. The younger broke his gaze with the glass and took a sip before setting it back down on the counter with a sigh._

_“I dunno. He was really anxious about the whole thing. Acted like he had never seen a gun before.” Zeren explained._

_Mubo’s brow furrowed while listening to the younger, watching him take another sip of his drink._

_“iIt almost seemed like he thought I was gonna turn him in or shoot him myself or something.” Zeren chuckled weakly. “Like I’d ever do that.” He muttered, sarcasm dripping from the words._

_“Well, it’s over now. We’re not supposed to get another shipment for a week, so you can take some time off.” Mubo replied._

_“Time off? What, are you my boss now?” Zeren snorted, turning to look at his friend._

_“Something like that.” Mubo shot him a joking smile._

_“Mhm.” Zeren hummed, holding his glass up to his mouth and downing the rest of his drink. He almost slammed the cup on the counter, turning back to his friend._

_“Look, this whole arrangement has been a blast, believe me, but I’m fucking exhausted. I’m gonna get going.” He said._

_“I’ll let you know when I need you again.” Mubo told him, watching the younger stand up from the stool and push it in._

_Zeren held up his hand to signal his thanks and goodbye before weaving through empty tables and exiting the dim bar into the evening air._

_The brunette made his way down the street, passing the laundromat on his way home._

_The sky was a gradient of colors, pink clouds standing out from the quickly darkening background. The streets weren’t that busy, just a few people littered about, making last minute purchases before the markets closed._

_It was peaceful._

_Peaceful until Zeren picked up on the fact that he was being followed, at least._

_There was a person wearing a hooded jacket that walked slowly about 30 feet behind him._

_Maybe he was just paranoid. It looked that way until he started picking up the pace._

_He started walking faster, his instincts telling him that something wasn’t right. He avoided looking behind him, knowing that it would just slow him down. Sure, he could fight, but he really, really wasn’t in the mood to get punched in the face._

_Zeren kept gaining speed, keeping his head down in order to be as inconspicuous as possible. He rounded corners, trying to throw his follower off his trail but w _herever Zeren turned, the person did too.__

_At this point, Zeren was close to his apartment. But did he really want to lead this person to where he lived?_

_He took a sharp turn down an alleyway, what he believed to be a shortcut; running through the dimming halls of bricks, Zeren reached a dead end._

_“Well, it was short, that’s for damn sure.” He thought._

_Before he could debate whether it was worth it to scale the bricks or turn around and go another way, lights shining on him made him freeze in his tracks._

_Zeren turned around, shielding his eyes from the lights._

_A voice came over a megaphone._

_“Ding Zeren, You are under arrest.”_

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, easy does it.” 

“Wenjun, he’s not broken glass, you can stop treating him like it.” Minghao rolled his eyes as the taller helped Zeren get out of the passenger’s seat.

“Would you both shut it?” Zhengting snapped.

“Just trying to be helpful and this is what I get.” Zeren heard Wenjun mutter.

“I’m fine. I’ve dealt with worse. You can let go of me now.” Zeren told them, trying his hardest not to get agitated; It was becoming increasingly difficult due to his pounding headache. 

“You, shut up. Minghao, go wake Chengcheng up and have him move off the couch so that he can lie down. Wenjun, help me get him inside. Be careful not to agitate his side.” Zhengting ordered.

“I get beat up one time and suddenly it’s like I’m a two year old who can’t be trusted with sharp objects.” Zeren huffed, reluctantly letting his leader and his friend help him hobble inside the building that housed Yuehua’s base.

“That’s exactly what you are.” Minghao called over his shoulder. Zeren swore he’d hit him for it later.

The two members deposited Zeren onto the couch as gently as possible, careful not to damage the injured one any further. The rest stood around, watching quietly with sleep in their eyes. 

“So... How have you guys been?” Zeren asked lightheartedly, trying to diffuse the tension that was very present among the whole gang.

“If you didn’t already have you ass handed to you, I’d do it myself.” Zhengting locked his jaw, clearly still angry.

“Wow, that sounds like a lot of fun. Raincheck?” Zeren joked.

“I’m right there with him.” Quanzhe spoke. “You told me you’d be fine. We spilt up, trying to save time, then you disappear and then leave me to believe you had gone and gotten yourself killed! Do you have any idea how hard that is on a man’s conscious?!” He snapped. 

Zeren froze, wide-eyed. Outbursts like that were pretty out of character for Quanzhe. He said nothing, eyes flicking to each of his members. 

“I think he just wants to be sure you’re alright.” Xinchun explained quietly.

That, Zeren had an answer to.

“I’m alright. I have a minor concussion, 12 stitches along my ribs and an encounter with an attractive male doctor under my belt so I think I’ll be okay.” 

This earned him eye rolls from Wenjun and Chengcheng.

“Look, I didn’t plan on this happening. Mubo showed up out of nowhere and had his henchmen beat the shit out of me. If anything, this gives valid reason to continue Zhengting’s patrols.” Zeren explained. 

“He’s still mad?” Minghao asked, getting an elbow to the ribs from Chengcheng. 

“Of course, he’s still mad. You don’t stop being mad at someone who lands you in jail, dumbass.” Chengcheng retorted as Minghao rubbed the sore spot. 

“ **Point is** ,” Zhengting interrupted. “OACA are invading our turf, and they need to learn a lesson.” 

“Which is?” Xinchun asked.

“That they’re not gonna get away with coming into our place, beating up one of our brothers and then leaving him for dead.” Wenjun supplied. 

“Bingo.” Zhengting called over his shoulder as he walked to the map table.

“Awesome, so when are we going?” Zeren asked, trying his best to pull himself off the couch but recoiling in pain as soon as he started moving.

“ **We** , as in everyone but you, will be executing extensive patrols in groups of three  **that do not spilt up** around the area that OACA have been known to invade tomorrow night.” Zhengting explained. 

“Oh, c’mon dad, please?” Zeren whined.

“Shut it. You’re already walking on thin ice,” the leader snapped. “You act like you’re in any condition to fight. You will be staying here, end of story.”

Zeren sighed in defeat. 

“Until then, get some rest and get ready to go. It’s 5:30 in the morning. Go to bed and be ready to leave at 5 PM tomorrow evening.” Zhengting told the group.

There were murmurs of agreement mixed with yawns shared among the 6 members before they began to return to their rooms. 

Wenjun and Chengcheng helped get Zeren to his room where he fell back on his bed gently, hissing in pain at the slight ache that seemed to bloom in his chest with his movements. The bed was comforting and warm, a stark contrast to the environments Zeren had experienced in the last few hours. 

The mattress felt like pillows soothing the burning and pounding sensations within the brunette, hence the reason he was asleep in less than two minutes. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“Don’t I have a right to know why I’m here or something like that?” Zeren asked loudly, hoping for an answer from anyone that might have heard him._

_He was locked in a room, cinderblock surrounding him with a heavy, grey door on the far side. Zeren’s wrists were locked together with handcuffs, the metal starting to dig into his skin. The table he sat at was bolted into the floor, as if he could somehow muster the strength to pick it up and throw it._

_Zeren was alone. He had been for what he guessed to be a little over half an hour by now. It was starting to get boring._

_“Is no one seriously gonna tell me what’s going on?!” Zeren yelled.  
_

_The door swung open forcefully. A police officer walked in and stood at the other side of the table._

_Zeren eyed the man, trying to gauge if he would be able to get some answers from him. He watched the police officer open the manila file on the table and start to skim through it._

_It was both painfully tense and awkward until the officer chuckled._

_“What’s so funny?” Zeren asked, trying to lace his voice with as much sting as he could.  
_

_The officer looked up._

_“Your records.” He answered simply. “Ding Zeren, 18 years old, Graduate of one of Beijing’s best high schools, Valedictorian, 700 on the Gaokao,” the officer read out._

_Zeren’s stomach sank as he was reminded of what he left behind, what he could have been._

_“I just find it amusing that someone with so much intellectual promise ended up getting involved with something so stupid.”  
_

_Zeren rolled his eyes. Aren’t police officers supposed to be helpful?_

_“You gonna tell me what stupid thing I did or are you just gonna let me sit here and observe the paint fading off the walls?” the brunette asked sarcastically, shifting in his seat to alleviate the pain of the cuffs on his wrists._

_There was a pause before the officer spoke again._

_“What do you know about Han Mubo?”  
_

_Zeren froze._

_“I don’t know anyone by that name.” he lied through his teeth.  
_

_The officer set the file down on the table, looking down at Zeren._

_“You’re not a very good liar. I hope you’re aware of that.” He replied.  
_

_Zeren’s jaw tightened as he looked down at the concrete floor._

_“Anyways, we have CCTV footage of you settling an arms deal yesterday evening. As I am sure you’re aware, selling firearms without a license in this country is a criminal offense.” the officer explained. “You’re looking at about 5 years in prison, unless...”_

_This made Zeren pick his head up._

_“Unless?” he spat.  
_

_“Unless you give us any information you happen to have on Han Mubo.”  
_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Zeren opened his eyes slowly, the light from the window in his room blinding him and making his pounding headache infinitely worse. 

“Oh my fucking god, I think I’m dying.” He groaned, stretching. 

“You better fucking not be.” Wenjun’s sleep filled voice sounded from across the room.

Sighing, Zeren rolled over onto his uninjured side to look at his roommate. 

“What time is it?” He asked.

“11:30 in the morning.” Wenjun groaned, pulling his pillow back over his face.

“Fantastic.” Zeren muttered, rolling onto his back. 

“Go back to sleep. Sleep heals all wounds.” he heard Wenjun say with a yawn.

He recalled his dream from that night, getting smacked with waves of guilt that only seemed to make him feel physically worse. It was his fault that this happened. 

“Not all wounds.” he replied softly. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you gonna answer your pager or just let it keep beeping so that everyone else gets to get a headache from it too?” 

“Shut up. You know why I’m avoiding looking at it, Rui-ge.” Yanchen whined, looking up from the chart he was filling out to look at his friend.

Zhou Rui sat in a swivel chair, eating an apple. He was ‘very tired, very hungry and very not in the mood’ to be doing anything, apparently. At least, that’s what he told Yanchen.

“Answer it, moron. We’ll get in trouble if you don’t.” the older said, taking another bite out of his apple.

Yanchen slammed his pen down on the chart. “Fine.” he said, voice tight.

The resident pulled the device from his pocket, groaning at the message on the screen.

“Lover boy, again?” Zhou Rui asked, eyebrows peaked in interest.

“Who else could it possibly be?” Yanchen snapped in annoyance. 

“Hey, be glad someone’s interested in you. Who knows, this could be your big break. Maybe you’re soulmates. But you wouldn’t know because you don’t want to go change his dressings. A shame, really.” Zhou Rui monolouged. 

Yanchen shot him a glare. 

“I have plenty of people interested in me, thank you very much, and none of them are him. Yeah, he’s sweet and all but I’m not sure I’m ready for my life to turn into a hospital drama.” He huffed.

“Whatever, just go. The sooner he gets better, the sooner he leaves and the sooner you don’t have to be his doctor anymore. Just think about it that way.” Zhou Rui told him.

“That ‘sooner’ is such a long ways off though.” Yanchen whined, slamming the chart shut and moving towards room 407, dragging his feet the entire way there. 

Upon reaching the room, Yanchen took several deep breaths before slapping his trademark smile on his face and pushing open the door.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Lin? I got paged to your room, is everything okay?” Yanchen shot questions at the man lying in the hospital bed, trying to make this as quick and painless as he could.

“You can call me Yanjun, remember?” the patient shot Yanchen a flirty smile. “And I had them page you just so I could see your pretty face again.” 

Yanchen froze, eyes wide, unsure of how to respond. 

“I’m just kidding. Well, somewhat. The real reason is I was wondering if I could have something to eat. I’ve heard you guys have a killer jello.” Yanjun laughed. 

“Food? Ah, well,” Yanchen picked up the chart that lay on a table at the end of the bed before leafing through it. “It seems that we can’t give you anything quite yet because it could interfere with your surgery, I’m sorry.” he explained, trying to wrap the encounter up as quickly as he could.

“Damn, that’s too bad.” the other replied, moving his hands behind his head in a sort of relaxed state. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Yanchen asked sweetly. ‘Maybe something actually  _surgical_ , maybe? Seeing that is my job?’ the resident added in his head.

“Could I maybe have some pain medication? It hurts.” Yanjun requested.

“What hurts?” Yanchen asked, moving towards the bedside.

“My stomach.” 

“Well, that would make sense considering the peptic ulcer diagnoses,” Yanchen replied, closing the patient chart and setting back on the end table. “I can give you some pain meds for now, but you can’t have any more before your surgery after this.” He pointed out. 

“Are you sure? I mean, how can you be so sure without a proper examination?” Yanjun asked, smirking suggestively.

Yanchen drew in a deep breath, trying not to lose his mind. 

“No, the diagnoses from your own doctor will suffice.” he responded quickly, smiling awkwardly. 

The smirk fell from Yanjun’s face at this, displaying what Yanchen read to be disappointment.

“I’m going to go get your pain meds and have a nurse administer them through your IV. I’ll see you later, Mr. Lin.” Yanchen said quickly, stumbling over both his words and his feet to escape the room as quickly as possible.

He shut the door behind him, letting out a sigh of relief that it was over.

“He just doesn’t know when to stop, does he?” Zhou Rui asked, leaning against the wall a few feet down from Yanchen.

“Were you eavesdropping?” He asked his friend, walking with him back to the nurses’ station.

“Maybe, but that’s not the point. He wants in your pants, dude.” the older one laughed.

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out, I didn’t catch that.” Yanchen snapped, sarcasm dripping from every word. The pair reached the nurses’ station where Yanchen picked up a tablet to request pain medication for Yanjun.

“All I’m saying is that maybe you should live a little.” Zhou Rui replied.

Thinking back to the previous night, Yanchen snorted. Having a gang member almost bleed out on your bathroom sink could count as living, right?

“If only you knew.” He muttered, fingers bouncing off the tablet screen.

“Knew what?” Zhou Rui asked, sticking his face in front of his Yanchen’s, blocking his view of the tablet.

“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to work.” Yanchen whined.

“Maybe I would, if you would explain to me how you’ve been ‘living.” the older responded, adding air quotes to emphasize his words.

Yanchen groaned, pulling his attention away from the tablet and stepping back a foot or two. Zhou Rui pulled himself upright and moved towards his friend.

“C’mon... I’m your best friend. You gotta tell me what you’ve been getting up to. For all I know, you live in this hospital and only leave when they kick us out for reaching time limits on 72 hour shifts.” He prodded at Yanchen’s side, hoping to get some answers.

Yanchen hesitated. He knew that this was a big risk, even if he was just telling one person. Treating someone unsupervised, outside of the hospital, especially for injuries sustained during illegal activities was a big no-no. However, Yanchen knew that Zhou Rui would keep pestering him until he told him what happened, and he really wasn’t ready to deal with that for the next week. The resident sighed, realizing that once again, he was at a crossroads. 

Thinking it over briefly, Yanchen decided to take the risk. 

“Not here. It’s too busy out here.” Yanchen told his friend.

“There’s literally 3 nurses, two residents and another intern who is taking a patient to CT out here. This isn’t busy.” Zhou Rui protested.

Yanchen felt his pager buzz through his scrubs pocket. Sighing, he pulled it out to look at it, praying it wasn’t Yanjun again.

“Shut up. You want me to tell you? Come to the supply closet on the 4th floor in half an hour. You know, the one by the pediatrics wing. I have to take this.” Yanchen told the older, trying not to sound too exasperated. 

“Fine. But you better tell me everything!” Zhou Rui called to Yanchen, who was already a good 15 feet from the other intern, walking towards the ER as quickly as he could without being scolded by nurses.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yanchen was greeted with chaos upon arriving in the ER. 

Usually chaos was good, in a sort of twisted way. It could mean that people were getting the help they needed or that there was something interesting. It could also mean everything was going to hell. 

The third option seemed to be most fitting from what Yanchen saw before him. 

The resident tried to pause and take in everything around him; there was a whole mass of people all wearing the same thing, a sports team, Yanchen assumed. Many of them seemed to be injured, hence the reason there were interns running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to do sutures and check for brain bleeds. There were a few of the athletes who were up and about, some sporting casts or in wheelchairs, trying to console the ones who had worse injuries. 

“There you are! Took you long enough to get here. We need you in the first trauma room.” a random resident shouted over the noise, pulling Yanchen away from his observations.

Yanchen nodded and hurried into the room in the far right corner, hoping to escape some of the insanity and noise. His wish, however, was not granted. As soon as he pushed the door open to the sterile room, he was almost knocked over by an attending moving to grab the defibrillator. 

He quickly tried to jump in and help any way he could, soon learned that the man on the table was the driver of a bus for a college football team. He had a heart attack driving the team home from a game, causing the bus to swerve off the road and slam into a section of trees. 

Yanchen tried to help the other residents supply oxygen to the man but after shocking the man three times, it was clear there wasn’t a point.

**“Time of death, 4:27 PM.”**

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you guys ready to go yet?” Xinchun asked for what Zeren thought was the 11th time. Zeren sat on the couch, watching his members get ready for their next patrol, desperately wishing he could go with them.

“Almost. Keep your panties on.” Minghao replied, slipping his knife into the sheath. 

Quanzhe sat leaned against the table, already set to leave.

“Who let the baby have a knife?” He asked, referring to the knife Minghao somehow got his hands on.

Minghao bristled at this. 

“You wanna say that again, hamster boy?” He threatened, making Chengcheng snort back a laugh a few feet away. 

Minghao hated being referred to as ‘the baby’ of Yuehua, and whenever someone said it, he would start threatening people. Of course, no one took him seriously when he was mad, and they all treated him like the two year old he was anyways. 

“I said, ‘Who let the baby have a knife?’.” Quanzhe repeated slowly, emphasizing every word just to make the youngest angry.

“You son of a--” Minghao was interrupted when Wenjun pulled him back by the collar of his shirt, effectively cutting off his airway and stopping anything before it could start.

“Shut it. Both of you.” Wenjun said sternly. “We’ve already got this idiot down for the count,” He gestured to Zeren on the couch, who shot Wenjun the middle finger. “Don’t be the second one to join the asshat brigade.” 

“Asshat brigade.” Chengcheng snickered, making Wenjun shoot him a look. 

Zeren rolled his eyes at his idiot members, shifting positions for what felt like the 978th time. He was just so uncomfortable, especially with the pain still as present as it was last night radiating from his side.

“Stop moving. You’ll pop your stitches, and I can guarantee I don’t have as gentle of a hand when it comes to giving stitches as that Yanchen guy.” Zhengting scolded him, walking up behind the couch, effectively giving Zeren another minor heart attack.

“Holy fuck. You gotta stop with that ‘appearing out of nowhere’ thing. You’re gonna kill me.” Zeren said, bending over with his hand on his chest, trying to calm his breathing.

Zhengting flicked the back of the injured member’s head before striding over to the rest of the members. 

“Owwww,” Zeren whined, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

“Alright, does everyone have everything?” Zhengting asked the standing ones.

Collective murmurs of agreement and nods came from the semi-circle of members as they finished loading their guns and hiding their knives.

“Let’s go.” Zhengting said before turning back to Zeren, the members starting to move towards the door. “You, stay there. Your ass better be glued to that couch.”  

“Yes, sir. I had Wenjun wipe it down with a gluestick earlier.” Zeren replied with a sarcastic salute that made earned him a glare from the leader. 

“Shut up.” Zhengting called over his shoulder before entering the cool November darkness with the rest of the gang, leaving Zeren alone to his thoughts once more.

**_TO BE CONTINUED._ **

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is part 2 of the Blood On Your Hands series!
> 
> Sorry it took so long, I’ve been pretty busy and pretty out of inspiration. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it!


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